Believe
by Valina
Summary: When Near has a reoccuring dream about the now deceased Mello, he takes it upon himself to find out if what he experiences exists, with a surprise truth.


With a gasp, Near woke up from another one of his dreams.

No, they weren't dreams. These horrible concoctions of his mind were nightmares. He had been having reoccurring ones as of late, terribly sad ones about none other than,

"Mello,"

He sat up and stared at the wall across from his bed, letting the dream really sink in…and the tears welled up in his eyes again, as usual. He slowly let himself slide from his bed to the floor with a soft, muffled thud. He felt so utterly heavy with sadness and longing, the boy curled up into a fetal position on the hardwood floor and sobbed, recalling what his nightmare had been this time.

-

Mello was having one of his rare 'good' days where they both got along fine; no squabbles, no broken toys. His blonde friend had suggested they go for a walk in the forest behind Wammy's. Near didn't refuse; doing so would only have started a fight, and he didn't want that. As usual, he was dressed in his all white clothing, as Mello was in his black.

Near had noticed that Mello wasn't saying much. The white-haired boy knew this was unusual for the other…was he was depressed? Or was his mind just on something else? Whatever the case, Near, being the ever curious and helpful boy, quietly asked him what was wrong.

Mello just looked at him for a moment, still walking. His dark eyes were trained intently upon the boy, taking in his delicate features, the way his hair blew slightly in the gentle breeze, the way he seemed to glow in the sunlight because of how pale he was. After a few seconds, he smiled.

"Near, I'm fine," was all he said as placed his hand on the smaller teen's shoulder tenderly, reassuringly.

Near couldn't help but to smile back. He had always thought Mello looked so handsome when he smiled. "Whatever you say," he responded in his usual soft voice as he looked down at Mello's pale hand.

In truth, Mello was merely thinking of the best way to admit that he had feelings for Near. The only thing he could think of right now that might get him warmed him up to accepting the idea was the little clearing he knew about. It was in the forest behind Wammy's House, and he always went there when he needed to clear his head. There was a nice, rather large tree in the middle of the clearing that stood out. He loved that tree.

Mello turned his gaze back to the ground in front of him and continued walking, removing his hand before his rival/friend decided to ask about it.

Near started to vaguely wonder where they were headed as they continued deeper into the forest. It was obvious that Mello was purposely taking him wherever they were going; he was walking with great stamina. Near simply smiled to himself and remained silent, greatly enjoying Mello's good mood; he really wished the blonde was like this all the time, because he never hated Mello in the first place, it was always Mello that had to instigate things because f his jealousy and inferiority complex. He started feeling sorry for him, putting himself in the older teen's shoes. He would probably do the same thing, maybe just not as violently.

After a little while, they came upon the clearing and Near looked up to the sky, admiring it silently, watching the clouds slowly drift by, pushing away all negative thoughts and memories thinking about Mello's personality caused. He'd stopped just underneath the reaches of the branches of tree in the center, whereas Mello continued on, into the shadows of those branches.  
"Isn't this place great? I come here just to think about things sometimes, you know?" Mello spoke softly as he sat down at the base of the ancient plant. He looked oddly at peace among the other flora blanketing the floor of the clearing. Then, raising a single hand, he motioned for Near to sit next to him., looking up into the white-blonde. The boy walked towards him and did so, resting his back to the thick trunk behind them.

As soon as Near was seated, Mello moved so he could look right at the young teen. He fished in his pocket for the pocketknife he always carried and pulled it out slowly.  
Near's eyes widened reflexively, a fearful thought entering his head: 'Did he bring me out here to kill me? Was he being nice just to lure me into a trap?'

The blonde flipped the blade open and held it tight in his hand. He looked down at the shining metal and as he moved the knife to make the blade catch the glint of the sun, he started to speak, "Near… there's something… I've always wanted to do…"

Near started to silently hyperventilate, his thoughts suddenly becoming frantic even as his face remained calm, 'Oh, God, he did! This is it! This is how I'm going to die…?' He never thought Mello thought this strongly about him, hated him so badly he wanted to kill him.

Mello leaned in closer to Near and, instinctively, the younger of the two pulled away a little. The blonde held the blade of the knife down, but there was no telling when he would bring it up and stab the boy, or maybe just slit his throat.

The older boy held Near's eyes with his own and leaned in closer, forcing him up against the tree, looking directly into his dark hues. Then he let his eyes slide shut, and Near suddenly realized what he was actually going to do. He let out a sigh of relief but took in another sharp breath when Mello softly, tentatively pressed his lips to his own. The kiss was loving, tender, and not very much like Mello at all.

After what felt like only a few seconds, Mello pulled away and lifted the knife above his head, sending another shockwave of fear through Near. The youth lost some of his composure then, screwing his eyes shut tightly, cringing, and nearly crying out when the blade began its arc downward, toward his head. But Mello only jammed the point into the tree behind Near's head. He started moving the blade, slowly carving into the bark of the tree. Near had slowly opened his eyes when he heard the 'thunk' of the blade hitting the tree, then turned his head and watched silently, wondering what the other male might be writing into the wood. A few minutes passed and Mello finished an "M". A few more, and an "&" sign appeared. Finally, after another five minutes or so, an "N" was carved into its surface. Around the outside of this, he carved a heart.

Near swallowed thickly and looked at the finished product, a heavy feeling in his heart. "Mello," he said, turning his gaze up to him. "How… how long?" he asked and looked back at the tree, realizing that that mark was there forever. It meant so much to him.

"A long time, Near… years. Though it seemed like I absolutely hated your guts… I have trouble showing my feelings in the right way… I… love you, Near." And he looked down, hiding the blush on his face.

Near, never being much of one for words, merely turned so he was facing his friend and lifted his chin up, the boy's skin soft beneath his fingers. He stared into the older boy's eyes for a few seconds, then smiled and kissed him. It was a little fiercer, more passionate than Mello had originally done himself. And Mello returned the kiss in full, sighing a bit as Near grew bold enough to nibble his lower lip. Mello returned by pressing his tongue to the boy's lips, asking to be let in. Near complied with a soft whimper and their tongues battled, writhing and sliding against each other, Mello obviously winning. They kissed for what felt like minutes upon minutes, but was barely only half of one.

Near broke slowly to say, "I love you too, Mello, and I always have." They gradually smiled at each other, tears welling in both of their eyes as they looked back to the tree and their proclamation of their love that was forever carved into its surface.

-

This was always where Near woke up, crying, because he knew that he would never see Mello again. Mello was dead. That situation would never happen, because he was gone, forever.  
This night, Near decided he would try to look for the tree in the dream that he had had over a dozen times already. So, pulling his sorry self off of the floor, he headed out the front door into the chilly night air. He'd left his jacket and shoes behind; they seemed unimportant compared to his growing need to find this clearing and the tree. He didn't even have proof of their existence, but some instinct told him they were real, something in his subconscious

He walked into the forest, keeping a straight path, just like in his dream. He walked for at least 15 minutes before the trees opened up, revealing a small meadow with one large tree in the middle. Near gasped softly, never expecting to really find it, and walked up to the tree in his dream, the exact same tree.

Upon getting closer, he saw there was something hanging on it, something white. He approached the tree and saw whatever was hanging from it had his name on it. 'Paper, it's paper.' He thought and got a closer look. It was nailed to the tree inside of a clear plastic bag, keeping it safe from the elements. He ripped it off, exposing what he never thought he'd see: the sign that Mello carved into the tree in his dream. Near furrowed his brow and gasped again, feeling the tears well up fast. 'Did he… do this before he died?'

He opened up the bag and removed the folded paper. It was a letter, addressed to him, and there was just enough moonlight to read it by:

"Near," it started, and said boy tried to blink away a few tears that instead, streamed down his cheeks.  
"If you are reading this, chances are, I am dead.  
"If you found this, you've been having dreams about me, haven't you?"

Near nodded at the paper, though it didn't really matter; it was paper.

"I wanted to tell you that I love you, I always have, and always will, even here in the afterlife.  
"I carved that into the tree 6 years ago, just before L died. I just couldn't tell you, so I left this in hopes you'd one day find it.  
"I'm sorry for all the shit I put you through, but I have troubles showing my feelings in the right way…  
"I love you, and I'm with you every day, in spirit.  
-Mello."

He looked away from the note, the paper still in his hands, even though he'd almost lost his grip in shock. This whole thing felt like a dream, and dream where he didn't want to wake up, even if Mello was dead, at least he'd had feelings for Near like Near did him. He felt like he was going to explode, like so many years of bottled up emotions were threatening to spill out. And they did. Near did something he'd never done before: he started bawling. For what seemed like hours he wailed, tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes screwed shut as if to block out the pain ravaging through his very soul. He thought about all the times Mello had yelled at him, or fought with him, but now he saw those memories in a new light. He deciphered the frustration that had been clear in Mello's expression as frustration for his feelings towards Near, not frustration for the boy's existence. He felt his heart physically aching with each beat, sadness overwhelming him as he that realized he couldn't be with Mello, couldn't ever tell him to his face how he felt about him.

Finally, Near managed to bring himself somewhat under control. Broken sobs still tore themselves free of his throat, and his chest heaved with his desperate gasps for air. With shaky hands, he folded up the paper and put it in the front pocket on the left side of his shirt to keep it close to his heart. He wiped the tears from his face and stared at the tree in front of him. 'He came to me in my dreams, to tell me to come here and find this…'

"Oh… Mello." he suddenly called out, his breath misting in the cold night air. He sobbed once as he fell to his knees. "I love you too, I love you so much…" And he broke down all over again, burying his face in his hands. His sobs and wails were muffled, but only slightly. In all honesty, he sounded like a wounded and dying animal. He craved Mello's presence, and wished with all his heart that the blonde could be there with him.

And though he couldn't see it, he could sense it. Mello was indeed right there with him, in spirit. He was kneeling beside Near, one ghostly hand resting weightlessly on his shoulder, a single tear streaming down his transparent face.


End file.
